What was my mother thinking, taking two rambunctious five-year-olds into the grocery store? Especially my cousin. I can normally be trusted to be good, but Lydia is a bad influence, and my mother knows it. But my aunt needed a break, so off Lydia went on our errands. We're both bored from the moment we walk into the store, and those shelves look just perfect for climbing. So we begin our ascent, and within minutes, a jar of spaghetti sauce is cracked and bleeding on the floor. We don't even try to hide when my mother finds us; we're doomed.